10
BLAIR
“What the hellhappened to you guys?” Ryland asks, gaping at us as we walk through the front door. Goosebumps pebble on my skin, my soaked tank top doing nothing to keep me warm.
Ash trots over with interest, stopping in front of me to sit patiently, his tail swishing back and forth.
He used to do that at the rescue when he wanted a treat.
“Get her a change of clothes,” Travis says lowly. “She’s freezing.”
“I’m fine,” I sniffle, and Travis and Ryland look at me incredulously.
“Yeah, fuck that,” Ryland says. “I’ll be right back.”
I step out of my boots and place them neatly by the door.
“Blair.”
Travis says my name softly, and I shiver at how much I like it.
“Stay in the spare bedroom,” he says. “Or you can take mine, and I can sleep on the couch.”
There’s no command in it, just an offer.
This scary, hulking beast of an Alpha is just a gentle giant with a huge heart.
I nod. “I can take the room with the kittens.”
It’s tempting to take Travis’s room, to climb into his bed and roll around in his scent.
But while my inner Omega is aroused, there’s something else she craves more from her scent matches.
Connection and comfort.
Sure, the attraction is there, and there’s a light fluttering in my stomach every time I scent the Alphas.
But there’s a deeper part of me, a scared part that longs to be seen and heard.
I don’t know how to make that happen.
I shiver, rubbing my hands together to stay warm, and Travis immediately notices.
“I’ll turn up the heater,” he murmurs. “It’s warmer in the kitchen.”
I follow him, inhaling his smokey scent, and turn the corner to admire their kitchen.
It’s not huge, but it’s sleek with steel appliances and dark marble countertops. Rowan leans against the small island, dressed in la ong sleeved black shirt and sweatpants. He sips from a white mug with a teal paw print on it, and his eyes widen when he sees me. He sets the cup down with a little more force than necessary and straightens up to his full height.
“Hey! Hey. You’re back.”
I fight a smile. He looks flustered and caught off guard, and it’s adorable.
“Nice mug,” I say knowingly. “Looks pretty familiar.”
He’s drinking from one of the cups we sell on our website. It’s endearing to know that he owns Furs and Purrs merch.
“Yeah, we have a few,” Travis says from beside me. “Uh, we needed new cups, anyway.”
